


6 - Christmas Birthday with Fred Weasley CONTINUED

by musicalcrimescene



Series: Harry Potter 12 Days of Christmas [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Birthday, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Holidays, I'll probably add another chapter bc im weak, Kissing, Love, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reader is a bit of a grinch, Romance, a wee bit of angst, birthday on christmas, friends with the Weasley twins, making out on the front porch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalcrimescene/pseuds/musicalcrimescene
Summary: Reader's not a huge fan of Christmas because her birthday falls on the same day. Everyone seems to forget about her, including her own parents and huge family. Once the Weasley twins find out, of course, they refuse to let her go without a proper birthday celebration at the burrow.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Reader
Series: Harry Potter 12 Days of Christmas [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055726
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	6 - Christmas Birthday with Fred Weasley CONTINUED

**Author's Note:**

> First, sorry this took so long to get out. I started writing this part a while ago but was feeling pretty uninspired by it. I managed to work through it slow and steady though, and I wrote another part last night and really wanted to post it, but promised myself I would put this in first. So now here we are! I convinced myself to finish it and now I'm kinda feeling it again.
> 
> It's also been much longer than I originally intended bc I just can't stop myself, so odds are I'll write a third part to this lol. It's might not be the next few, but it'll definitely be in the 12 Days of Christmas (it really should just be the 12 days of winter break tbh)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!! Unedited as always ☺️

This was decidedly very much not worth it. 

You’re currently standing out the front door of the burrow and you already regret both having agreed to this and somehow allowing it to slip that your birthday is on Christmas. Although, thinking back to what could be awaiting you are your own house, you suppose that gaudy birthday decorations covering the entire front door is better than anything back home.

Luckily, your parents agreed to your staying with the Weasley’s no problem. In fact, your mother seemed somewhat relieved of the fact. You try not to let that sting too much, keeping in mind that she has 9 other people to worry about, not to mention any extended family. You suppose even one less mouth to feed and child to worry about would no doubt be a relief, even to you. 

And so, with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to send your gifts over before the 25th, you packed your trunk for nearly two weeks and took firm hold of the portkey Mrs. Weasley sent over to you. Despite having used a portkey once or twice before, you still weren’t prepared for the feeling of a hook yanking at your navel, spinning and pulling you until you were nearly sick. 

When you finally landed in your destination, somewhat sprawled over the front lawn of the Weasley’s tall and unusually structured home, you felt relief at having made it to the right place. Upon seeing the crudely decorated front door - no doubt done by Fred and George, perhaps with help from Ginny - the feeling of relief fled as you debated whether it was too late to head back home.

Before you have time to make any sort of decision - you were leaning towards heading home purely out of spite - the door swings wide upon and you’re greeted by the smiling face of Arthur Weasley.

“Ah, you’re finally here! Come in, please, come in,” he says, opening the door wider and he moves to take your trunk.

“Oh, really, Arthur, you don’t have to get my trunk for me-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupts, already flicking his wand so it levitates behind him. “I’ll bring it right up to the room you’ll be staying in. Now please, head right inside! They’re all waiting for you.” With a gentle nudge, you finally nod and step through the doorway, entering the home you’ve visited so many times before. 

Of course, after staying here as many times as you have, one would assume you’ve grown accustomed to the warm chaos and well lived in space. And yet, as you step through the entryway and into the dining area by the front door, you can’t help but be taken aback once more by how welcoming the house feels. No, you may not be a Weasley yourself, but being her certainly makes you feel like one.

“Badger!” You hear simultaneous cries greeting you, and as you turn towards the stairs you see Fred and George tumbling down to get to you. You grin at them, momentarily forgetting your hatred for the decorations covering their front door, and greet them with open arms.

Despite it only having been a couple of days since you’ve seen them last, Fred races towards you and scoops you up, lifting you well off the ground with his significant height. You let out a happy yelp as you squeeze him back, arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, hands gripping the back of his shirt. He chuckles into your neck and you try your best to appear normal as you allow yourself to take in his scent.

You’re lost in the feeling and smell of Fred for a brief moment until George clears his throat behind you. Fred drops you, and when you turn to George he’s giving you a barely contained smirk, You glare back before rolling your eyes and stepping forward, pulling him into a hug that is significantly less enthusiastic than Fred’s.

“What, I’m not worth the pomp and circumstance?” You laugh and pull back slightly before pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Grinning up at him, you step out of his arms and give him a wink.

“Don’t worry George, you’re always worth it.” He laughs until Fred nudges him in the side, a single eyebrow raised and a slight pout to his lips.

“Why’d George get all the special treatment, huh?” You try to hide your blush with a who knows type shrug, turning your head away.

“Jealous, Freddie?” You hear George ask. “Do you want her to give you a kiss, too? I’m sure you’d enjoy it, now wouldn’t- oof.” He’s cut off by a jab to the ribs from his twin and you pretend not to notice the red face of Fred, too busy trying to hide your own. 

Instead of dealing with that, you turn around and look for the other members of the Weasley family. You don’t have to search for long before Molly comes bustling into the room, apron on and hair as frizzy as ever.

“Oh, dear, you finally made it! Lovely to see you, so lovely…” You give her a tight hug before she pushes you towards the direction of the kitchen and firmly sits you down onto one of the chairs.

“I hope those boys of mine aren’t giving you too much trouble, love. Now tell me, how’s your mother doing? It’s been so long since I’ve caught up with her, what with the children and school and all…” She continues on about the chaos that ensued over the past few days since her children returned home, and you absently listen, your attention being dragged back to the loud voices coming from the living room.

Your gaze eventually lands on Charlie who stands hunched over as he walks into the kitchen. When he sees you sitting there, smiling up at him, he pauses a moment before grinning back. As he puts the kettle onto the stove, quickly dodging out of Molly’s way, he glances over his shoulder at you.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around here.” You let out a gentle laugh, tilting your head at him.

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve left Romania. How are the dragons up there?” Charlie reaches up into one of the cabinets, pulling two mugs down before responding.

“Feisty as ever.” You laugh and give him a wink as drops tea bags into each mug. You notice he put chamomile in one, your favorite brand. 

“Ah, but I’m sure a guy like you can handle them, right?” Charlie flushes a bit as he pours hot water into the mugs before carrying yours over and sets it on the table in front of you. He pulls out the chair across from you and takes a seat, chuckling.

“Oh, yes, though even I’ve got quite a collection of scars to show for it.” You bring your cup up to your lips, taking a gentle sip, eyes never leaving Charlie’s face. When he meets your gaze your smile widens and you give another exaggerated wink.

“You know, some would say the scars only serve to make you more attractive.” He raises an eyebrow and lets out a loose laugh, eyes briefly flickering behind you before a small smirk takes over his face. He leans in closer to you, head coming to rest on his hand, eye contact intense. You can only assume who you saw over your shoulder, and you give a smirk of your own and play along, leaning in closer to him as well.

“Oh? And what would you say?” If this were anyone other than Charlie Weasley - Percy to that list - your stomach might flutter and your cheeks might blush. But it is Charlie Weasley, another constant companion throughout your childhood when the twins were making too much trouble for you or enforced their “no girls allowed” rule. Whenever that happened, you’d go and find Charlie, knowing that he’d always be willing to put down his book and play a game or two with you. He was kind and a good friend growing up, turning into something of a brotherly figure for you.

Of course, he’s also too perceptive for his own good and noticed fairly quickly how you look at his brother. Since he took notice, he’s been sure to flirt obscenely with you whenever Fred’s around. Whether this is to get a rise out of you or his brother, you’re not sure. Either way, after your initial confusion, you found it quite fun to play along.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to jokingly flirt back for very long. Behind you came the sound you imagine an outraged bird would make before you felt a warm weight on your shoulders. Glancing up, though still leaning heavily towards Charlie, you see the red face of Fred giving an intense look to his brother.

Charlie only continues smiling in return, but eventually concedes and pulls away from you, leaning back in his chair instead. Pulling out the chair next to you, Fred sits down, pulling you off the table and further towards him. You try your best not to blush as your shoulder leans against his chest, though you find it especially difficult when Charlie gives you an obvious wink.

Huffing a laugh, you turn to Fred and raise a brow. “What? Can’t I have a nice conversation with your brother? Or are you the only Weasley I’m allowed to talk to now?” Your tone is teasing, though the look on Fred’s face is anything but. He raises his hand not around your shoulders and gives you a light flick in the nose.

“Oh, I’d say that was more than just a nice conversation with my dear brother. Charlie,” he says, turning attention to his sibling. “Don’t you know not to flirt with guests? Incredibly rude, it is.” Charlie lets out a laugh in response before raising his arms in surrender and standing from the table. Before leaving, though, he picks his mug up from the table and gives Fred an amused look.

“Of course,” he says, mirth clear in his voice. “I would never want to get in your way.” With one last wink at his brother, Charlie shuffles out of the room as calmly as he shuffled in, now leaving two flaming faces behind. You feel Fred’s arm tense behind you as he resists the urge to go charging after his brother, deciding instead to remain seated with you.

Eventually he huffs out an irritated breath. “Ignore him,” he says, eyes not quite meeting yours. Despite the heat in your cheeks, the playful mood Charlie brought along doesn’t quite leave, and so instead of retreating and staying silent, you shift a bit, turning and looking up at Fred with a teasing grin on your face.

“Oh, don’t be mad, Freddie. You know you’re my best girl, no matter how smooth, handsome, and rugged Charlie can be.” Fred’s face quickly goes from one of surprise to disbelief as he stares down at you, bewildered. Despite your best efforts, a laugh bursts through as you clutch your stomach and lean back into him for support. No matter how flustered you yourself may be, it’s always worth it to push through the anxiety and force a reaction from Fred.

You hear him huff again behind you, his arm pulling you tighter against him as he rubs his knuckles into your hair. You swat his hand away, pushing your head back into his chest and tilting your chin up so you can see the underside of his face. He tucks his chin in to try and gaze down at you, a smile on his face. You’re still giggling as the two of you look at one another, and you can tell he wants to laugh as well.

Before you can say anything else, George walks into the kitchen and raises an eyebrow at the two of you. “Oh? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” You let out a snort before gripping the table’s edge and pulling yourself up and away from Fred’s (warm and lovely) chest, silently mourning the loss of contact.

“Oh, I was just soothing Fred’s jealousy, is all. Had to remind him he’s my best girl despite Charlie being the more-”

“Less,” Fred interrupts.

“More attractive brother,” you continue, ignoring his pained look. George gives a smile of his own, eyebrow still raised.

“Oh, I disagree, Badger. I’d love to agree with you purely on principle, but I’m afraid we are identical and I’m well aware of how attractive I am.” He gives you a wink before stepping towards the table and lightly knocking on the surface. “Now come on, you two, no more canoodling. We’ve got games to play and tricks to pull.” 

Grinning, you leap up from your chair and carefully grab your mug of tea before following him out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You hear footsteps behind you, and once you’re up the first few steps you turn around to find Fred trailing after, slower than he usually would. You smile down at him, head tilted to the side.

“Come on, Fred,” you say, nodding your head up the stairs. You glance up to where George has already met the first landing before looking back down to his twin and giving him a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t worry,” you say, cheeks flushed in surprise at your own boldness. “We can get to the canoodling later.” You only see his wide eyes and disbelieving grin for a moment before you spin back around and quickly hop up the steps after George, feeling as though maybe separating yourself from Fred can also separate yourself from your embarrassment. 

It hardly works, of course, but by the time you’re settled down on George’s bed as he digs out his box of prank supplies from underneath it, you feel calm enough to not jump at the sight of Fred trailing into the room after you. He settles on his own bed, just a few feet away from George’s.

Before George straightens up again with his heavy box of supplies, Fred meets your eyes over his brother’s back and flashes you a grin, one that feels different from his usual smiles. This one feels special, like it was only meant to be seen by you. You smile back before ducking your head in an attempt to hide your blush, eagerly allowing George to distract your attention away from the adorable boy on the bed across from you.

**********

The next few days are so filled with pranks, games, girl time with Ginny, and listening to dragon stories from Charlie (with Fred coincidentally always by your side as you catch up with his older brother), that you nearly forget about the horrid birthday plans that await you. You’re so used to no one knowing about your birthday that it’s a shocking reminder when Molly mentions it the day before.

It’s Christmas Eve and you just finished dinner. You’re helping Molly clear the table and do the dishes when she brings it up again.

“So, dear, do you know what you want to eat for your birthday tomorrow? I’ll make you a special dinner, I just need to know what you like.” The wet plate in your hands nearly slips from your grasp as you’re hit with the unexpected question. 

You quickly glance over your shoulder in hopes that no one else heard her, but luck doesn’t appear to be on your side. The twins were just on their way out of the kitchen area when they hear their mother’s question and spin back around, curious grins on both of their faces.

You give them a quick glare that they don’t even react to before turning back to Molly and the drying rag. “Oh, no, don’t worry about that. I’m sure whatever you were planning for Christmas dinner will be lovely, there’s no need to-”

She interrupts you with a quick, “Bup bup bup! No buts, missy. And it’s not Christmas dinner, it’s your birthday dinner, one that I’ve been planning on making since I invited you here for break. Whatever I end up making will be for you, so you might as well make sure it’s something you enjoy.” 

You fight down an embarrassed flush as you scrub the already dry plate with the rag. It’s unfamiliar, being doted on in such an individual way, especially for your own birthday. It’s never happened for as long as you remember, and while there’s a squirming feeling in your stomach, it’s not exactly unpleasant.

The twins come up behind you, one on either side as they lean against the counter and grin down at you.

“Yeah, come on, Badger,” Says George. “Don’t think we forgot.”

“We’d never forget, now that we actually know,” Fred chimes in, leaning a bit closer to you. You huff and roll your eyes as you reach around him to put the plate back in the cupboard. You expect him to move out of your way, but he remains steady where he is, forcing you to lean into his personal space, stretching your arm over his shoulder to slide the plate in above his head.

You try not to meet his eyes as you do so, but your body has never been one to obey your mind when it comes to Fred, and so you end up meeting his gaze anyway. He has something of a challenging look on his face, eyes gleaming with something you struggle to identify. You feel as though you can hardly breath, being so close to him and having his eyes locked on yours, that it takes you a second longer to pull back.

As you reach for the next plate that Molly hands you, you blow out a breath and internally shake your head. Luckily the moment was brief enough that Molly, distracted by the dishes, failed to notice your interaction with her son. George on the other hand, who had nothing better to do than stare and observe, was chuckling beside you, body quietly shaking. You don’t need to look at him to know he has an amused smirk on his face.

“Well,” you say, staring resolutely down at the plate in your hands, “you do make lovely bangers and mash.” Molly makes a pleased hum as she waves her wand at the rest of the dishes, magically cleaning and sorting them into their respective cupboards. The plate you’re currently drying flies out of your hands and lands gently in place above Fred’s head. You stare back at Molly who has a triumphant grin on her face as she leaves the kitchen, calling out for Mr. Weasley.

You’re still silent in surprise as the twins laugh beside you.

“You should know better than to do dishes with our mother, Badger,” Fred says on your left.

“She only does them by hand when she wants information out of whoever she ropes into helping her,” George adds on. You sigh and dry your hands on the towel in front of you before turning and leaning against the counter between them.

“I definitely should have known better.” A thought occurs to you and you give each twin a suspicious look. “And what do you two do when you want information out of someone?”

George laughs and puts one hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, we don’t need any information out of you,” he says.

“Yeah, we’ve already got all the information we need for tomorrow!” Fred grins as he rests his arm on your shoulder and you try your best not to stare up at him. Your immediate thought is to argue against it and convince them not to do anything special for you tomorrow, but you know it will never work, not with these two. They can be stubborn when they want to be.

You sigh instead, a reluctant smile on your face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you do. One of the major downsides to being friends with you two.” You ignore their indignant protests and laugh, pushing off the counter and pulling away from their touch. “Come on,” you say, turning to look at them as you head towards the living room. “Ginny’s been wanting to play that muggle game all day and we told her we’d join her after dinner.”

The two grumble as they follow after you, but manage to put smiles on for their enthusiastic sister who’s already laying out the game pieces. As you sit down across from her on the couch, you’re completely lost on how to play, but Ginny begins explaining the rules as soon as the twins sit down as well. George joins his sister on the couch across from you, and Fred squeezes in by your side. You give him a quick smile before turning back to Ginny, trying your best to follow along with what she’s saying. Fred’s thigh pressed against yours and the utter complexity of the gameplay makes it very difficult, though.

Soon, when the colored money is handed out, pieces are selected - yours is a shoe, though you’re not quite sure what it means - and the objectives are placed, the game begins. So far you’re under the impression that you just have to buy more properties than anyone else, but from the size of Ginny’s rulebook you’re not sure that’s entirely correct.

The game goes on, though, and you get a feel for the rules as you play. George quickly loses all of his money and begs Ginny for more, but she simply laughs at him and tells him to lease a property or he loses. She’s been playing it much more safe and though she only has two properties, her pile of money seems much taller than anyone else's. 

Despite somehow managing to lose even more money than George, you’ll admit that you’re not paying all that much attention to the game, instead focusing on the cute little dog piece that George chose and the warmth of Fred’s side pressing against yours. Over the course of the past half hour, the two of you have slowly shifted towards one another. It was always accidental, like when Fred had to lean across you to get to the dice or when he shifted his weight so much that you couldn’t help but slide closer towards him. You don’t complain, though, as his scent envelops you every time you breathe in and his laugh is right next to your ear every time George ends up in jail.

You’re dragged out of your distracted haze when, instead of a laugh, Fred shouts right by your ear instead. You jump up, startled, and listen to him yelling at his brother while Ginny simultaneously laughs and tries to calm him down.

“No, Gin, you don’t understand! That was my hotel, the cheater took it!” Ginny laughs some more before attempting to choke some words out. She doesn’t get around to it before George cuts in to defend himself.

“No, it’s my hotel. It’s clearly on my property.” He’s making a decent attempt to make his face appear calm and neutral, but you can see the laughter that’s trying to fight it’s way through. He definitely cheated. 

“Yes, it’s on your property now, but it was on my property. You moved it!”

“What’s yours is mine, Freddie. Don’t be greedy. Brothers are suppose to share-”

“Not when it’s my hotel! I lost a railroad for that!” You sigh, both in amusement and exasperation as you meet eyes with Ginny who’s finally managed to calm down. It’s your turn, but you have no money and no more properties to lease. Looks like you’re bankrupt, then.

“Looks like I lose,” you call across to Ginny over the sound of the brothers yelling. It’s gotten to be quite late, already nearing midnight, and you’re sure it won’t be much longer until Molly comes down to yell at the both of them if they keep it up. You roll your eyes with a smile on your face before turning back to Ginny.

“Hey, I’m gonna head outside for a bit, get some fresh air. Get away from all their noise.” Ginny laughs a bit and nods.

“I don’t blame you. If I weren’t about to win, I might leave myself. Don’t forget your coat.” You nod with a smile and stand up from the couch, maneuvering around the game board and the still-arguing twins who hardly notice your movement. Laughing to yourself, you grab a random jumper on the back of a chair and tug it on before quietly opening the kitchen door that leads out to the front porch.

Despite it being the middle of winter, you find the chilly air refreshing and take in a deep breath, enjoying the cool air. You tug the cuffs of the jumper down around your hands as you walk towards the porch steps and take a seat, watching as your breath turns to steam in the cold.

For the first time since leaving Hogwarts, you have a moment of quiet to yourself. First it was the train back home, then the unpleasant chaos from your own family, and now the comforting noise of the burrow. 

You pull your knees up to your chest and rest your chin there as your eyes flicker around the many stars in the sky. Normally you’d be desperate for a moment to yourself by now, but it’s different when you’re with the Weasleys. Sure, it’s just as loud as your own home and even the common room at times, but comparatively it’s infinitely more comforting. It almost feels like a blanket of safety, always being able to hear someone in the next room. The chatter is kind and even the bickering is loving and you think that that’s something truly special about the burrow. It lands quite solidly as your second favourite thing about being here.

After another moment of silence, you hear the door creak open and then close behind followed by heavy footsteps as your number one favorite thing takes a seat beside you. Fred stays silent as he settles in, his long legs stretching down the steps and onto the frozen ground below. You can’t help but trace the line of his limbs with your eyes, appreciating.

Fred leans back on his hands, one of them places right behind you back. You can’t help but feel as though he’s as close to wrapping an arm around you as he can get without actually doing so. A sense of pleasure follows the rush of disappointment.

“So,” you say, resting your cheek against your knees as you look up at him, “who won the argument?” Fred lets out a quick laugh, turning his head slightly towards you.

“Ginny, once she joined in. The girl is fierce, I tell you.” You laugh at his pout, leaning over to nudge him. 

“I don’t know what you were expecting when you were arguing over something as silly as a property.” He leans forward, his expression one of disbelief.

“It’s not my fault George has gone mad! It was my property, just like it was my hotel, and-” he cuts himself off as he looks you over, eyes catching on your shirt. “Is that my jumper?”

You look down at yourself, remembering the random jumper you had found. You blush a bit and play with the hem. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know whose it was. I just found it, and it’s cold outside so I just… Here, you can have it back-” You start pulling it off, but Fred’s hands shoot out to stop you.

“No! No, it’s ok.” He’s wearing a small grin as he gives you a once over, his cheeks turning pink as he takes you in. “I don’t mind if you wear it. It looks good on you.” You stare up at him, face hot, until he clears his throat and removes his hands from yours. You feel the urge to tease him, point out how you can steal from him when George can’t, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the soft look in his eyes or the pink in his cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to try and embarrass him.

Instead, you smile up at him before slowly leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. “Thank you,” you whisper, lips brushing his skin as you pull back. His cheeks turn from pink to red, his eyes dark and intense as he looks down at you. You simply keep smiling up at him and give a half shrug. “Now you’re even with George and Charlie too.”

Fred straightens up at that, eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his face. “Wait. When did Charlie get a kiss?” You laugh at his distraught look before giving him a wink.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? A girl never kisses and tells, Freddie.” His reaction isn’t the one you’re expecting. Instead of laughing and teasing you, he stares down at his lap, a frustrated look on his face. In fact, he looks almost sad. 

“Freddie?” Your eyebrows pull together in concern when he doesn’t respond. He just keeps looking down as though he’s debating whether he should say something. After a few seconds, you guess he decides on yes.

“You don’t…” He clears his throat, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back to his lap. “You don’t fancy Charlie, do you?”

You sit in silence for a moment, stunned by his question. Of all things, you expected that the least. What a silly, foolish boy.

You try to keep it in, but a laugh erupts from you anyway. He jumps a little, surprised from the sudden noise, and looks at you with wide eyes and a confused look. You shake your head, trying to calm yourself down.

“Fred, what? Why on earth would you think I fancy Charlie? Out of all people in this house, it certainly wouldn’t be him that I fancy.” He frowns and glances away from you, looking as though he’s running some internal calculations. You smile at him, finding his confusion endearing, until suddenly he straightens up further as a sly grin covers his face. Uh oh.

He turns his sly look to you. “Is that so? Then who in this house, praytell, do you fancy? Because from what you just said, there is someone.” Your eyes widen as you backtrack and replay your words in your mind, wincing when you realize what you had said to him. You quickly shrug and cover your wince with what you hope looks like an innocent expression.

Before you can say anything though, Fred leans in, bringing his face close to yours with a wide smirk. “Don’t bother lying to me, Badger. I know there’s someone. The only question is, is it-” He cuts himself off, face freezing for a moment before he searches your own as though he’s looking for something specific.

After a moment, his expression settles from worry and desperation to one of simple patience. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when they open again they’re brighter than you’ve ever seen them, hazel catching the light of the moon and reflecting back a shade so beautiful your breath catches. And those eyes are looking at you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s speaking. “George and Charlie… I don’t want to be even with them. Not when it comes to you.” He takes a shuddering breath as you cease to breathe altogether. 

You lean in closer to him, faces now centimeters apart, and you whisper, “Then what do you want?” 

He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he lets his forehead fall against yours, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. His nose nudges yours once, twice before he’s sliding closer his lips rest against yours. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had and your chest hurts with nerves and sweet Merlin this is happening. 

For a while, neither of you move. You simply take the time to rest against one another, committing the feeling of him against you to memory, appreciating the warmth of his skin. Soon, though, he presses against you, pushing his lips against yours and tilting his head to ease his access. You hum a bit as you respond, opening your mouth against his and capturing his lips between your own before letting them slide away. 

His hand comes up to the nape of your neck and you hear him shift on the steps of the porch until his thigh is pressed right against yours. His other hand grips your waist and you sigh at the contact before moving your own hands, both gripping the sides of his nick, just below his ears. Your thumb brushes against his cheek and he lets out a content sound, pulling back for a moment before diving back in.

His kisses are more urgent now, fiercer than before. His presses you against him however he can, mouth trying to swallow yours. When you feel his tongue press against you, you let out a surprised moan that has him gripping you even tighter, a rough whisper of “bloody hell” against your lips.

Your mouth opens up to his and before you know it your chest burns for air but the last thing you want is to pull away, not when kissing Fred is this good. After another second, he doesn’t give you a choice as he pulls away himself, out of breath and lips wet and swollen and looking absolute perfect.

You’re sure you look similar, hair a mess from his hand running through it, face flushed and eyes wide. For a moment you stare at each other, taking in one another’s appearances. You’re sure you’ve never seen someone so incredibly attractive than Fred right here in this moment.

His mouth opens as he prepares to say something, but he hesitates and a moment later you’re jumping apart at the sound of footsteps and then the door swinging open. You duck your head against your chest, but you see Fred look up in surprise, expression turning into frustration when he sees who’s there.

“There you two are!” At the sound of George’s voice you want to groan in exasperation. Of course. After so long trying to hint at your attraction for his brother, of course he’s the one to interrupt when something finally happens.

Oblivious to what he just walked in on, George walks over and sits between the two of you, forcing you to scooch away to make room for him. You’re about to glare daggers at him and curse his existence when you see what he’s holding in his hands. There, on a little plate, is a single shoddy looking cupcake with a lit candle in it. You stare, blinking stupidly, for a moment before looking up to meet his wide smile.

“It’s past midnight! It’s officially your birthday, Badger.” You blink some more before looking back down at the cupcake he’s holding out to you. Slowly, a smile creeps onto your face and you take the plate from him.

“When did you… why-” George interrupts you, his large hand in front of your face.

“Nope, no asking why because that’s a ridiculous question. Just make a wish and enjoy the delicious labor of our love!” You raise an eyebrow at ‘our,’ looking over to a bashful looking Fred. You try not to stare at his lips when he answers your silent question.

“We made them earlier when you were out with Ginny. Mum helped of course, but the decorating was all us.” You look down at the glob of frosting on top of the cupcake, a shaky smiley face drawn out of red icing. Your heart swells almost painfully at the poorly crafted but well loved cupcake and tears fill your eyes. These boys…

“Thank you.” Your voice cracks as you say this and you look up at them, a wide smile on your face. George looks oblivious to the emotion, continuing to smile with pride. Fred on the other hand has a soft look to his eyes, completely focused on you. You meet his gaze for a few moments, wishing you were alone with him so you could hug him, thank him, kiss him, but George buts in.

“Come on, then, we don’t have all night! The wax is going to drip on it.” You laugh lightly and close your eyes for a moment, thinking of a wish to make. One of your eyes peaks open, looking first at George and then Fred who watches you closely. Your cheeks flush a bit before you finally blow out the candle.

You split the cupcake with the twins, fingers brushing against Fred’s for a moment longer than necessary. The three of you chatter lightly for a while as you eat the cupcake. Before long you let out a large yawn and push yourself off the step, stretching as you stand up.

“Thank you again for the cupcake. I really appreciate it.” You give them both a smile, not missing the intense look Fred is giving you. Your eyes remain on him as you say, “I should go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stay there for a moment, still looking at Fred, before giving a soft smile and turning away and walking into the house. 

As you close the door behind you, you look briefly over your shoulder, meeting Fred’s eyes once more. You stay there, reading his lips as he mouths something out to you. Happy birthday, love. You grin back at him.

Thank you. And with that, you close the door and head towards the stairs. Once you’re out of sight, you take a deep breath, running a shaky hand through your hair. You have no idea how awkward tomorrow will be, but you can only hope it’s not full of regret.


End file.
